


Reformation

by crieshavoc



Series: St. Delphine [2]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Science Girlfriends, cophine - Freeform, st. delphine verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 02:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3470870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crieshavoc/pseuds/crieshavoc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delphine makes her intentions clear in Felix’s loft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reformation

**Author's Note:**

> When I originally posted "Don't Make Me Out to be a Saint...." on tumblr, a kindly Anon asked me to continue the 'verse - specifically who made the first move and what happened after their first kiss. This is technically third chronologically in the St. Delphine verse, but it was written second, so here you go.
> 
> Original summary: What happens after this is basically what happens in canon. Delphine continues to have good intentions, and to love Cosima, and to make mistakes. And maybe to perform miracles. That’s a requirement for sainthood, isn’t it?

_Felix slides open the door when I knock. He does not look pleased to see me._

_“Delphine’s here,” he calls over his shoulder to her, to my Cosima. “She’s got baggage.”_

 

\--

 

                “Cosima?” I call her name out like a prayer, shifting anxiously in the doorway.

                Felix walks away, but I am too scared to follow without a clear invitation. He walks to his kitchen counter and sits opposite Sarah.

                I swallow and find my throat has gone dry. No one speaks. No one moves. I pretend I am brave long enough to pull the sliding door closed behind me and force myself to cross the room.

                She is sitting on Felix’s couch, her laptop closed in front of her. She looks me over and I try to read her: anger, fear, disappointment, anxiety, and exhaustion are obvious, but (if I am not imagining it) the slightest hint of relief touches the corners of her eyes.

                “Cosima,” I say again, sitting next to her and reaching out a tentative hand.

                She doesn’t shy away, but she doesn’t exactly welcome the contact either, “Why are you here, Delphine?”

                _I love you_ , I think, but I doubt she would believe me after all I’ve done. I cannot hold her gaze. I withdraw my hand, picking at loose bits of fabric on the couch between us. “Why didn’t you take me with you?” Of all the things to _lead with_ , but my own hurt comes bubbling to the surface as she glares at me.

                Sarah scoffs from behind us.

                Cosima’s eyes are hard as she tells me, “Why would I take my _monitor_ with me when the goal was to get a head start on DYAD?”

                “I’m not _just_ your monitor,” I clench my hand, trying to hold back my temper. I didn’t come here to fight with Cosima. I came to confess my _sins_ and ask for absolution. I came to tell her how I feel. Never mind that Aldous paid for the bus. I would be here anyway. I just need to make her _understand_ , but the words won’t come.

                “What else are you?” Cosima throws her hands up, literally and figuratively. She has given up on me. _No._

                “A fool,” I say, because it is true. “A former Neolutionist.” What _is it_ about talking to this woman, this _clone_ , that makes me realize things about myself as I say them? “A terrible friend.” I can’t stop myself now that I’ve begun. “Cosima, you are _all that matters_ to me now. I don’t care about _DYAD_ anymore. I don’t’ care about my _career_ anymore. Do you understand?”

                I hear Sarah and Felix shifting in their seats behind us. I imagine they might feel awkward observing this, witnessing it, but I couldn’t care less.

                I reach for her again, for my _dearest_ friend, and take Cosima’s hand in shaky fingers. “ _You_ are all I care about. You and your _family_. And,” I look away again, even as her face softens, “and I want to be part of that family. I want to be _here_ , with _you_.” I am holding back tears now instead of angry words, “I want to be wherever you are and earn your forgiveness. _Please_ , Cosima.”

                She looks at me for a long time, like she did that day in her apartment when I interrupted her Skype conversation with the two people sitting behind us, the _audience_ to my groveling. Cosima looks down at her hand in both of mine and back up at my face.

                My eyes are stinging and my hands are shaking and I think my heart is breaking the longer she is quiet.

                Cosima takes a deep breath and turns away to cough.

                Fear grips deeper into my stomach. Cosima is _sick_. I don’t want to believe it, but little things I know are starting to fit together in my mind. I shove the thoughts away and _focus_.

                Cosima tilts her head, considering me once more, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” She wants a full admittance. I know that. I knew that.

                I nod, nearly biting clean through my lip. The faint taste of blood in my mouth is somehow appropriate given the gravity of my being here. I am throwing away _everything_ I have ever wanted or worked for. (It is the best decision I have ever made.) “I –” _I love you._ “Please give me another chance. An _honest_ chance. _Please_ let me prove how much I care for you.” I squeeze her hand and _pray_ she says yes.

                It’s not _enough_. I can see it plainly in how her jaw tightens, how her throat moves, in the slump of her shoulders.

                “What do you want me to say?” I take comfort in the warmth of her hand. I take comfort in the fact that she hasn’t pulled away – that she didn’t refuse me right away, at least.

                Cosima looks behind us, “Could we have a minute? Or an hour?”

                Felix looks like he’s going to protest, but Sarah’s quicker, “We’ll _both_ stay out for the night. C’mon, Fe. Cosima can make her own mistakes.”

                Not exactly a _ringing_ endorsement, but I’ll take it.

                Cosima’s hand squeezes mine once the door is shut and we’re alone. “Did you come prepared with a plan?”

                I shake my head, looking down at our hands, cursing myself for not understanding sooner why it feels so right and so perfect to be near her.

                “So, what, you just dropped by to say you’re sorry for lying to me, _again_ , and betraying my trust, _again_?” She’s still angry, and she _should_ be.

                I sigh, closing my eyes and leaning my head back, “I came here because I cannot stay away.” I look her dead in the eye and show my hand. There is nothing else left to do. “I’ve never loved a woman before, Cosima. I assumed that was _not_ what I was feeling for you, even though all the signs were there, because I – because I was _stupid_.” I wave one hand angrily; angry at myself all over again, “I don’t have a better explanation than the truth. I _won’t_ lie to you again. I know that is hard to believe, but _please_ let me prove it to you.” I am trembling from head to foot, awaiting judgment once again.

                “ _Love_?” She whispers the word back to me, sounding much more surprised than I expected.

                We are quiet for a few minutes more, staring at each other and looking away and staring again. She’s just as afraid as I am, I realize, to make the first move. To finally cross the line between friends and lovers. To finally erase the line between _subject_ and _monitor_.

                “I think the plan now,” I say, making it up as I go along, leaning closer to her, “is that you kiss me to make me stop apologizing, because otherwise I’m just going to keep repeating myse–”

                And she does.

                I do not believe in God, or in angels, or in anything like that, really. I haven’t since I was a child, but in that moment, I feel _blessed_.

**Author's Note:**

> A large part of me regrets the "former Neolutionist" line because I find Delphine all the more interesting as a lovesick idiot behind enemy lines than not, but that just means I have to write more fic to make up for it. (Right?)


End file.
